


Lord and The Tramp

by notsoseriousdyl



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsoseriousdyl/pseuds/notsoseriousdyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aristocrat Kyle Broflovski is so sick of his mother trying to shove marriage down his throat. Can he just have a moment of absolute peace to think over his own attractions? Speaking of attractions, that adventurous looking man over there with the dog looks quite appealing. Even if he is... dirty and homeless looking. Wow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord and The Tramp

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to my very good friend! I hope you had(I'm so late I'm so sorry!) a really good day! Have a good year as a new age! Many love and kisses from me!

Born and raised with pure blood riches and satisfactions was the easy life. Kyle Broflovski was top notch, a real Prince if you will. Lived in the big housed-neighborhood and wore only the finest, personally tailored vests and ties. His hair was constantly tamed, as impossible as it was at first, and his skin was forever flawless and elegant. A real gentleman. A sharp heir to the family company. A sure enough lady killer.

The mention of said ladies started one day as a small joke at dinner. Which progessed further throughout a series of weeks until his mother flat out asked why he wasn't dating a nice girl. Perhaps that Stevens child, she says, she's very nice and extremely beautiful. Or the daughter of the super and almost greedingly rich Testaburger girl. Or maybe the youngest child of the Tucker family. Kyle rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose at every girl she listed.

"Kyle," his mother warned, forcefully shoving her fork in his direction from the other side of the large and long table, "you're nearing adulthood, you need a nice and young lady!"

The boy sunk in his chair, his long legs stretching and spreading under the table. Ike, the little preteened brother, snorted and mumbled insults under his breathed directed at Kyle, who glared at him. He'll get him later, "I don't see why," he finally answered his mother, "can't I just... go on without one? I mean, there isn't a law saying I have to get married. Or find a girl for that matter. I'm completely content being by myself."

"Nonsense! Blasphemy! Poppycock!" Sheila slammed the fork on her food, "I will not die without grandchild, mister!"

"Darling," Gareld, Kyle's father and owner of said important company, pipped up at this moment, "Kyle is still young, he'll find love in his own time. Remember when we got married? We were both way past our prime."

"Which is why I don't want the same for my little sweetie!"

"Mom, please," Kyle put a hand up and sighed. He kicked his feet back into place, lifting himself from the table, "if you'd excuse me, I'm rather upset now," was all he said before taking his leave, Ike making slurs of the predicament behind him.

Of course he couldn't say them out loud. Kyle wouldn't be able to deny them, facing their parents. The truth of the manner is he wasn't really interested in girls at all. They're beautiful, yes, smart and kind and the perfect woman for any man, but not for him. Sometimes he wonders if he just wasn't interested in anyone at all, but he doesn't think about it much. He refuses to.

Kyle walked out into the cool air of September, the time of year where it's neither hot nor cold, a rare time in South Park. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and moved, the regret of suddenly leaving the house without a bite starting to boil in his belly. Or that could just be the hunger. He hadn't eaten all day, and his stomach was growling in a rather rambunctious way. He placed a hand on his belly. It kind of hurt, his hunger. Like his stomach was eating itself. Sheesh.

He turned a corner and almost ran into the short and heavier than others Stevens child, who smiled at him with that cute smile that everyone just dies for. She's absolutely stunning, in both looks and brain, "Mr. Brofloviski," she tipped her head down a bit before looking back up at him with those glossy, honey looking eyes, "it's such a pleasure to run into you. How have you been?"

Kyle now noticed a bundle of roses in her gloved hands, looking plastic and too red. Fake flowers. He looked at her, "I've been well," he nodded, being a typical gentleman to the not so typical lady, "where are you running off too with... those." He pointed with his nose to the monstrousities. She could definitely afford fresh and real flowers.

She seemed to think of the same thing he did, her face taking on a light pink haze at the cheeks, making he look even more of an angel, "My mother and your mother have been talking," she explained, "she sent me to gather the most beautiful flowers to express our future love. These fake ones will emphasise how we'll last forever, since they can never die."

The redheaded prince felt his chest swarm and a smile reach his lips. He took the hand of Stevens, keeping his smile and looking at her with his dark green and forest eyes, "Ms. Stevens," he started, seeing how she had lite up with his action, "I need to tell you something very important, please listen?"

She nodded, her teeth showing in a wide smile and eyes shinning, hand squeezing his in the most loving way Kyle had ever experienced in his entire life, "Our love is just like these flowers," he looked down at the plastic, "beautiful, nice smelling, elegant and vibrant in color. Surely all the real flowers are extremely jealous," he looked back at her, eyes no longer warm and smile had disappeared. She lost hers as well with his sudden change of expression, "but fake," he finally said, dropping her hand, "there's no point if it's not real."

With a slap in the face, the lady rushed off with tears on her face. Kyle let out a small sigh, his hand reaching up to feel his heated and red cheek. That will definitely leave a mark. The fake flowers now laid on the hard ground, at his brown, sharp shoes. Just like Stevens hopes. Thrown away like garbage, rubbish, trash. Nothing.

A low laugh was heard, pulling Kyle out of his thoughts. He looked onward to a rather dirty figure leaned up against a post, apple in hand that didn't look bitten out of. With the way he was dressed and how messy his hair looked, he probably stole that apple. Kyle tilted his head at him, confused with how the stranger seemed to be laughing at him. Then he grew annoyed. Why was he being watched in the first place?

The dirty man twisted the fruit as his laughter died down, shrugging a bit, "Sorry," he said when he noticed the confusion, "you got slapped. It was funny."

Kyle crossed his arms in a defensive way and took a few steps forward, but kept his distance. He could practically smell him from there, "I don't see what's so funny about someone getting hurt."

"It's funny because you deserved it,"

"Deserved?" He raised an eyebrow, "enlighten me."

Mr. Dirty Man took a single bite of the apple before throwing it on the ground. A dog ran from behind his long legs to it, rolling a bit before laying down and started to chew, "You kind of denied her in a harsh way," he explained, shrugging again and crossing his arms, "you could of let her down a bit easier."

Kyle found himself snorting at this, rolling his eyes. Much like what he does when his mother talks, "There's no point in beating around the bush. I have no interest in her whatsoever."

"You sure?" The other asked, standing up straight now. Kyle could see that they were somewhat the same height, if not he being slightly taller. The strangers eyes flashed a devilish and daring look, making Kyles knees wiggle a bit. Damn, that gaze was like lighting, "she's a looker, a real lady if you're a gentleman. You must be gay."

"What do you mean 'if you're a gentleman'?" Kyle asked, avoiding the subject on sexuality all together. That is not for today, "Surely you can conceal your pubescent thoughts for a minute."

"I calls'em like a sees'em," The dog had long but finished the apple, gnawing on the core now. The man kicked it away quickly, lightly scolding the animal for fear of them choking. Well. The four-legged one, "not for me though. A lady like that deserves a devoting man. I'm but a... what's the right words to put here? Free man with various options?"

"A tramp," Kyle said bitterly.

The man laughed at this, this time it sounded freer and gleeful. Like he actually enjoyed Kyles joke. He stuck out his hand with a smile, "Name's Stan. Marsh."

"Marsh," Kyle looked at the hand before slowly taking it with caution. He felt a shiver go up his spin at the clamminess and hardness of the palm. This man must work a lot, "Randy Marsh comes and fixes our yard a lot. Relation?"

"Father," Stan answered and they shook hands, holding onto each other for more than Kyle was comfortable, "you have really soft hands. Do you work at all?"

Kyle took his limb back like it was being burnt, and wiped what felt like sweat on his expensive dress pants, "I'm not ashamed to admit not a day in my life," he glared at the ground at how casual this conversation was before moving some hair behind his ear and crossing his arms. He opened his mouth to speak again when his belly rudely interrupted and reminded him he was starving. He placed a hand on it almost painfully. Starving was really hard to do.

Stan hid a laugh unsuccessfully, "Hungry?" He asked, shaking his head, "come on. I know this great place where I get food for free."

The temptation seemed to be greater than Kyles common sense as he found himself behind Stan, walking and slowly being more and more isolated from the other townsfolk. He grew alarmed and on guard, staring a true back of the others head intensely as he gripped his clothing at the side. Anything could happen, being alone with a sketchy looking guy like Stan. He could get jumped, robbed, killed. The endless possibilities flooded his mind and he didn't notice that Stan was knocking on a door, yelling out some words.

"Hey, Butters," Stan called, placing a hand on his hip, "got some dinner for me and a friend?"

A crash and high pitched squeal filled Kyles ears before he saw a tall, blond man with huge brown eyes staring at them through the small window built in the door. He, Kyle is guessing Butters, blinked before a huge grin, the hugest the gentleman has ever seen, pasted itsself on his face, "Stan! And friend!" He straightened up, showing off his height. Wow. Toned and tall. He'd be a real looker if it weren't for a slight baby face mixed with chin hair. Maybe if he shaved. Or grew a mustache, "What would ya like? We got lots of leftovers tonight."

"Hit us with your best shot, dude," Stan snapped his fingers at him and gave him some guns for effect. Butters giggled before disappearing. The raven haired rat turned to Kyle, a warm smile on his face, "His name's Butters," he finally decided to give some info, "he and Kenny kinda helped me a lot when my family was in the rut. They own this place, made a real name for themselves."

Kyle put a hand up, "Wait wait, Kenny? McCormick? The one to run away from his family and start his own family tradition?"

"Ah, so you've heard of him?"

"Who hasn't? He's practically a fairytale come true. Brains, bravery, and looks."

The door opened to reveal a much shorter and mature looking man, blond hair stuffed into his tall white hat and bandana wrapped around his face, covering his mouth mostly, "Awe," he clicked his tongue and laughed a bit at Kyles red, embarrassed face, "am I really? How sweet of you to say so."

Stan gave him a high five after Kenny had spread a table cloth over a beaten up table with two squeaky looking chairs. He placed a candle in the middle, lighting it with a lighter Kyle wouldn't doubt is used for cigarettes.

"Nice mood, man," Stan commented, crossing his arms, "you know this isn't a date, right?"

"You know my answer to that already, dude," Kenny winked at his friend as Butters flew through the door, a silver dish in his hands. He clumsily laid it on the table and placed his hands together.

Kyle studied the scene very closely. Hm. Candle, silver platter, a wink, excitement... His hands twitched and he felt overall embarrassment, "Oh, no!" He shook all over, especially his hands and head, "I was just hungry, this isn't--"

"Relax, they do this with everyone," Stan placed a hand on Kyles shoulder and oh my god if he hadny experienced warmth before in his life, he'd think Stans hand was a heater from the gods.

Kenny wrapped his arm around Butters' waist, "Love is everywhere," he commented, stretching it out as a sing-song type of phrase, "eat already, don't waste food."

Just as quick as they entered, they left with giggles and little girl squeals. What was this, a television show? Kyle rolled his eyes harder than he ever has, he wasn't some tv drama. Love. With Stan? Forget it. But when he removed the shield over the platter, his mouth began go water.

Stan noticed this and chuckled, taking a seat at the beat up table and took a fork, "Butters and Kenny are very good cooks. Just got better over time."

Kyle sat his bottom down and picked up a fork a lot faster than he intended. Probably looked like a fool he, he realized as he placed his first fork-full in his mouth. His cheeks tainted with redness as he chewed, trying to act like a human being. Stan just laughed some more, "No need for any manners," he reassured, "I'm a 'tramp', remember? This isn't a dinner table, it's an eating table."

The redhead swallowed. He looked at Stan with blank eyes and slight frown. This dirty hobo really is being way too nice for comfort. Kyle almost wants to accuse him of harassing him, but something in those blue eyes told him that that wasn't a case. Stan looked back at him with a small shit eating grin before looking back on the food and ate some more. Kyle stood up straight and puffed his cheeks out in frustration at how relaxed Stan was being. Sitting with a stranger, eating like they were old friends.

"Why are you being so nice to a person you just met?"

Stan didn't look up, "This is the night, such a beautiful night, right?" was all he said as he rolled up some spaghetti and held it up.

Kyles look of confusion egged him on, "You looked hungry and angry. Can't walk away knowing I could of helped." He shrugged.

This caused the corners of Kyles lips twitch up in a bitter grin, "Aren't you a tramp in shining armor," he joked, sticking his fork back in the large platter, "thanks, I guess, though."

"So, why were you walking around? With the way you're dressed and how my dad cuts your lawn, you must be pretty important."

Ah, there it was. The question of the year. Kyle let out a groan at the memory, having nearly forgotten about the whole ordeal, "My mother keeps pushing me to find a wife," he explained, mouth moving before his head could think. Should he really tell a stranger his secrets? Well, too late to change his mind now, "really, the thought of such a thing has never crossed my mind pleasantly. Girls are beautiful and magnificent and so angelic, but I'm not ready."

Stan gave an uncomfortable cough, putting his fork down, "Or, you know," he leaned back, causing the chair is violently squeak, "you could just not be interested in girls at all."

Kyle scoffed, "You and my bother sajd the same thing," he shook his head, "I guarantee you that I--" he stopped himself, blinking. Wait a minute. Not interested in girls at all, huh? "That would explain the disinterest in Ms. Stevens, or Ms. Testaburger."

"Wait wait whoa," Stan suddenly put a hand up, sitting up straight now, "Ms. Testaburger? As in, Wendy Testaburger?" He questioned with wide eyes and a half smirk. When Kyle nodded, he let out a 'whoop' sound and laughed loudly, "She's sure a party. Not the lady you think she is," he winked a bit. Kyle refused to acknowledge that it might of made his spin tingle, "a total party animal and two timer. Don't marry her if you have to choose, I'd be the biggest mistake of your life." He blinked before quickly adding, "Not that I would know, just something I heard."

"Right," Kyle said slowly, raising an eyebrow and dropping the subject, "I wouldn't choose her anyway."

"Because you're gay."

"Because I'm ga--" Kyle blushed and took a meatball on his fork, flinging it at Stan.

Who laughed and wiped the sauce off his face, "Aggressive?"

"Defensive," Kyle corrected him with a glare.

"Right, sorry. If it makes you feel better I like guys, too."

Kyle rolled his eyes, "You act like that's a surprise."

Stan clicked his tongue together, "You saying I look fruity to you?"

"Well you certainly don't look like the fiercest lion in the zoo."

"Oh, so we're in a zoo now?" The dirty one shook his head, laughing a bit freely, "you're totally a gazelle then."

Kyle decided to play along with this small game they've created, "Because I'm so agile and beautiful?"

"Because you're so tempting and a teaser," Stan cocked an eyebrow at him in a flirtatious manner, causing the redhead to go full tomato.

The game ended right there, Kyle now focusing on the meal with a frown. Did he really just exchange flirtations with another man? He's never done that before, not with anyone. If he's ever liked someone, he would just tell them to their face. Flirting was something Kyle hated, it was like they new something but didn't actually say it. A secret that's not so secretive. How frustrating!

Not that Kyle liked Stan personally. Physically though, behind that dirt and messed up hair, he was more than okay.

Stan cleared his throat, pulling Kyle out of his thoughts and focus on him again, "Sorry," he said with a small frown, "that was a little out of line."

Kyle immediately put a hand up, "No no," he pushed out a small, awkward laugh, "I just wasn't expecting it is all. I don't-- uh, heh, I don't really... entirely mind."

"Entirely?" Stan scoffed, "You act like you want me to woo you.

Kyle bit his lip and shook his head, not even bothering to answer that. They both went silent, just eating. They didn't look at each other until a connected noodle made them, giving each other competitive looks.

"Excuse me," Stan started, his end of the noodle still in his mouth, "this is my noodle. Get your own."

"I was here first, Tramp," Kyle said back, refusing for the noodle to fall from his mouth.

"Is this a challenge, Lady?"

"Who're you calling 'Lady'?"

"Who're you calling Tramp?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes and bit down, the noodle falling from his lips. Stan quickly sucked it up with a victorious grin, "Don't look too cocky now, I only gave you that cause you look like you need it more than me."

Stan laughed full heartedly, "Is that your way of saying I'm too thin?"

"Yes," he nodded, "if my mother saw you, she force feed you."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Good because you're coming over soon." Kyle said before he could stop himself. He blinked when he realized what he had said and looked up to see Stan, who was staring at him with a small frown and raised eyebrow, "I mean," he coughed, awkwardly adding, "i-if, uh, you're okay with that.

The raven boy stared at him for a good few seconds, making Kyle wiggle in his seat a bit. He then smiled warmly, "Sure," he said with glossy eyes, "as soon as I figure out where you live."

The rest of dinner went smoothy. What Kyle could finish, Stan ate, and everything was gone on the plate. Kenny came by a couple of times to see if they were alright and with drinks, and Butters came by to collect the now dirty dishes. The two left the place with many thank yous and walked in silence.

"I suppose it's time for me to go home, my parents must be furious," Kyle mumbled, looking at the ground ahead of him as he walked.

Stan stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced at Kyle from the corner of his eye, "I'm surprised you were out at all. Aristocrats don't really go out."

"I'm not an Aristocrat," Kyle corrected him, "I'm just... me. I guess. I don't know."

"Well, hopefully you're you," Stan started. Kyle thought that was supposed to be a joke, so he was prepared with a facetious laugh, but was interrupted with more words, "I wouldn't be around you if you weren't you. I like you."

"Wow, thanks," Kyle didn't take that to heart. Nope. There's no way his face was red because of the other, it was just the coolness of the night. His heart was thumping because of all the walking they were doing, all this exercise and all that food really shouldn't mix, "that really warms my heart."

"I know, I'm such a romantic," Stan shook his head, shrugging the conversation out the door, "anyway, where do you live?"

"Just down this street. The very last house," Kyle answered, slowing down a bit. He was way too close to home for comfort. He convinced himself it's because his mother is behing that door waiting for him, "where do you live?"

Stan didn't answer immediately, which worried Kyle a bit. Did he ask something off limits? "Here and there," he said, finally, "everywhere really. I don't really settle down."

Kyle gave him a confused look, "What about your family?"

"I see them every now and then, not a lot."

The silence after that was very alarming. All through the night they've done nothing but tease each other and laugh a bit, this conversation is way too serious for the apprentice stage they were both still in. Kyle cleared his throat, looking ahead of them with pink cheeks, "Well at least you're independent," he said before stopping in front of a house and crossing his arms, "this is my home. Thanks for the, uh, meal. Even though you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Stan smiled at him, tilting his head in a way that reminded Kyle of a dog, "it was fun. Now that I know where you live, I'll come again."

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Great, now I have a stalker?"

"Very funny," Stan laughed, "next time you can meet Sparky. He's my dog. The little shit runs off a lot, but I think he'll like you."

Kyle remembered when he first saw Stan, a dog was next to him. He didn't even notice him run off, "I like dogs," he said, almost embarrassed by his choice of vocabulary, "gotta go in now, or else mom will throw a huge fit."

Stan gave a wave and watched Kyle walk to the house. The redhead turned back at the door to wave back and entered, closing the door softly. He would of let his mind take various directions of this night and how it ended if it weren't for the obnoxious sound of snickering coming from behind him. He turned sharply to see his brother with a bowl of ice cream in his hands.

"You're such a girl."


End file.
